Time is movement; it represents the possibility of restraining and observing, of freezing an instant, both chronologically and physically, resulting in the material view of a solidifed object, a blocked image, and the expectation that derives from feeling that it could, and should, dissolve. Fluids and liquids are, after all, the image of constant movement: another version of the intangible theme of time. Containers can be open and, therefore, imply penetration and transgression in an endless search for the essence of time and being. These have been Frederic Amat’s themes since he began his own personal quest in paintings.

The physical substance that gives form to his thoughts is often composed of nontraditional materials like artificial fabrics, wax, very dense pigments and dry inks that recall coagulated blood. He also uses translucent, clear wax that almost obscures a light that appears